


Where The Lost Get Found

by Iron_Yokai



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: And since I apparently am an idiot here's a retroactive tag for tw: Being burned alive, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Could also be read as non-pairing, Gen, Implied Molly/Caleb, Implied Widofjord, More characters to be added later, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Really it's up to you which one you want to see, TW: Brief mentions of attempted drowning, TW: Nightmares, TW: Panic Attacks, tw: mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_Yokai/pseuds/Iron_Yokai
Summary: They're all running from their pasts, trying to hide from their traumas. But there's only so long you can hide before you get found. All you can do from then is hope that the ones who find you are friends. (slight campaign 2, ep 7 spoilers)





	1. Caleb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually the second draft of what I had originally planned for this. I had this whole fic nearly done and then episode 7 happened and here we are. I like this version better though so really it was a blessing in disguise. Please note that there are times in this where Caleb speaks only in German so I will be posting the translations at the end of the fic for everyone to read. A big thank you to the tumblr Widofjordwillwork for translating these parts into German for me and they asked that I let you all know that they are offering to help anyone writing Critical Role fics who needs German.

_**The smell of the smoke pervades his nostrils, woody and suffocating but not nearly enough to block out the accompanying stench of his wife’s burning flesh as flames engulf her. He watches as the strong, beautiful, wonderful woman she is burns away as their neighbors jeer at her. He’s begging and pleading in a terrible harmony to her own agonized screaming and he’s scraped away the skin of his wrists pulling at the manacles locked around them. As he can do nothing but watch he feels like he is freezing, icy cold rage and terror filling him but doing nothing to quell the heat he can feel on his face. He can’t hear when the screaming stops over the sounds of his own cries and barely feels himself getting dragged away from the square. They were sparing his life, they had explained the act of false mercy with his own devotion to the state sponsored gods as opposed to the wild and free ones his wife had worshiped. He wishes they had burned him alongside her. The next thing he knows he’s back in the pitch black of his cell. Left on his own his thoughts swarm on him like ants, like a mob of zealots. The sounds of his wife’s agony blending with his daughter’s cries as they were ripped from their home and apart from each other. His own confusion and pleas echoed through his minds, he didn’t know what was going on, she’s innocent, don’t hurt her, stop, leave her alone, please don’t do this you know us-** _

 

A sharp pain cut through the haze of terror and Caleb jolted upright, immediately pulling back from whatever had caused him pain. His already shallow breathing hitched as he felt water dripping down his face, his wet hair plastered to his cheeks. It felt like his chest was caving in on itself and he couldn’t get a full breath around the water he knew had to be filling his lungs. His head was spinning from the lack of oxygen but he couldn’t breathe, could barely think through the mind numbing fear as he tried to figure out what he had been asked so he could answer before they got tired of waiting and shoved him back under.

“Caleb, I need you to breathe for me,” Somewhere in the back of his mind a twisted sort of amusement arose at how ill-fitting whoever was talking seemed to be for their job. The voice speaking to him was gentle and soft, with a reassuring evenness to it. A large hand reached out for his own and at the first brush of skin Caleb slammed himself away from the contact, throwing himself onto what felt like a wall behind him, “Alright, no touchin’. But you needta breathe for me darlin’, can you do that?” Black spots were beginning to dance in front of his eyes and as much as he hated it the rational part of him realized he had to do what was being asked of him.

“I’m going to count out loud, alright? Breathe in every time I get to three and out when I get to zero. Ready?” He must have nodded because the second voice started reciting from zero to three and back again in a lilting accent. Different from the first voice but it wasn’t uncommon for outsiders to be brought in to deal with situations like his. The Empire was all too willing to send anything needed to quell what they didn’t approve of. Slowly Caleb began to feel the pressure on his chest lifting and his vision began to clear. Soft moonlight was filtering in through the drawn curtains over the windows, illuminating the wooden walls of the large room and reflecting off something that glimmered with slight movement. There were too many shadows still clouding his vision but Caleb was certain that what he was seeing was a humanoid shape in front of him. The voice trailed off once Caleb was breathing at a regular rate on his own again and a moment of tense quiet fell over the room. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could barely make out the shapes of the two figures he assumed owned the voices that had been speaking to him.

The taller one slowly stepped forward and clarity seemed to return to Caleb in one rush. Fjord was standing in front of him looking concerned and occasionally sending glances back towards Molly, who was keeping his distance for a moment. Carefully, like he was approaching a wounded animal, Fjord approached the edge of the bed Caleb was on. He knew he should pull himself out of the corner he was huddled in but his nerves were still too raw for that kind of movement. “Are ya back with us?” A small bob of his head was all he could manage but it was apparently enough for Fjord, who loosed a sigh of relief, “Glad to hear it. You gave us quite a scare screamin’ your head off like that and then not wakin’ up.” Another wave of fear washed over Caleb as the events of his nightmares shoved themselves back to the forefront of his mind. He could feel his hands shaking as he gripped the sheets like a lifeline. Screaming rang through his head for a moment before a cup was suddenly shoved into his line of sight. He startled and whipped his head around to the side, seeing Molly standing next to the bed with a reassuring smile on his face.

“Drink up. You’re throat’s bound to be hurting after all that and it’ll only get worse the longer you wait,” Caleb hadn’t noticed the burning ache in his throat before then, too caught up in his chaotic storm of emotions to notice something so small, but now that Molly had mentioned it it was all he could feel. He reached out to grab the cup but his movements were sluggish and heavy. Gently Molly pressed the cup into his hand, not letting go until he was sure of Caleb’s grip on it. He had to grip the cup with both hands to steady it but managed to drink it back in one gulp. Whatever Molly had given him couldn’t have been water, not with the way it burned down his throat and into his stomach, but it left a pleasant taste of lingering mint in his mouth, “There we go. I’ll get you another one.” With one more easygoing grin Molly disappeared back to the other side of the room and began rifling through his belongings.

“So,” Caleb’s attention was drawn back to Fjord now, who was staring intently at him. A knot of emotion twisted into Caleb’s stomach at the overwhelming concern fully hit him and he fought not to fold in on himself just to escape the gaze, “I know yer prolly not feelin’ up to talkin’ just yet but do you think you could manage some yes or no questions? All you’d haveta do is nod or shake your head,” It was an easy out, and one he almost took, but he knew that he had to give some answers for what had happened. If he didn’t it would become a lingering issue he’d have to deal with later on and Caleb honestly wasn’t sure if he would ever find the willingness to deal with it later. So he reluctantly nodded his head just as Molly came back with his second drink, “Thank you. Let’s start easy then. That nightmare you were havin’ weren’t just a dream, was it? It was somethin’ that actually happened to you?” A small nod caused Fjord’s face to darken and Caleb wondered what exactly he had been screaming to make the man so upset already.

“What you were saying was mostly all in Zemnian but we got a pretty good idea that whatever it was supposed to mean wasn’t pleasant. We were able to hear a couple names though; Klara and Elianna?” Another nod as the room seemed to blur with smoke that was pricking at Caleb’s eyes and making them sting, “Something bad happened to them?” Hearing the question over the crackling flames and screaming was hard but somehow he managed a response.

“Verbrannt.” His voice was cracked and broken, and the effort of talking after such a long silence set off a coughing fit. It took him a few moments to recover enough to down the drink in his hand. The burn of the alcohol was less pleasant this time but was still just as grounding. Fjord and Molly patiently waited for him to catch his breath before Molly sat down on the bed as well, keeping a comfortable distance from him. Slowly he reached out to take the cup from Caleb’s hands.

“We don’t speak Zemnian dear. Could you tell us what that means?” He tried to force the words out of his mouth but the Common required seemed too clunky and awkward. Caleb swallowed hard and tried a few more times but he couldn’t get his tongue to cooperate with forming the words so instead he just shook his head, “Is it easier for you to speak in Zemnian then?”

“J-ja.”

“Then let’s just stick with that. When your Common comes back to you just let us know,” There was a pause before Molly started speaking again, “Do you want to talk about what happened? Even if we can’t understand what you’re saying it usually helps to just get everything off your chest. Makes it easier to just breathe.” The room seemed to be spinning around him as he tried to decide. He had never talked about his past to anyone, not even Nott. She only knew the barest details from their time together and even those had been hard for him to come to terms with. But somehow this was different. They would never know what he had told them so no matter what he said he was safe. They wouldn’t be able to know that it was all his fault and they wouldn’t hate him for it.

"Kl- meine Frau wurde umgebracht, auf dem Scheiterhaufen verbrannt," his voice was shaking almost as much as his hands and the words hurt as they spilled out of his but he had made his choice, "Sie nahmen meine Tochter, als sie unser Zuhause angriffen. Meine Frau und ich wurden ins Gefängnis geworfen, um auf unseren 'Prozess' zu warten. Sie wurde der Ketzerei für schuldig befunden, also brachten sie sie zum Stadtkern und verbrannten lebendig vor meinen Augen. Sie sagten es wäre Teil meiner Strafe und dass ich froh darüber sein sollte, dass mir Gnade erwiesen wurde. Ich war... sie folterten mich. Behaupteten, dass es meine Art war, Reue zu zeigen, und dass ich meine Tochter wiederhaben könnte, solange ich beweisen konnte, dass es mir leid tat, eine Ketzerin geliebt zu haben. Ich brauchte ein Jahr, um zu bemerken, dass sie lügten." He stopped to take a deep, shuddering breath. It was the most he had ever told anyone about his past and it had all come out of him in a rush of words that felt like they were cutting him from the inside out. His eyes burned and blurred and he knew he was crying. Caleb curled in on himself and latched a hand over his mouth as sobs threatened to tear their way out of him. He faintly heard a tutting sound and a set of large hands pulled his arms away. Fjord was barely visible through the tears streaming out of his eyes before he was being pulled into a tight hug.

“None o’ that now. If you needta cry then go ahead.” The last bit of Caleb’s resolve faded when a smaller, warmer hand began to run through his hair and he didn’t even try to stop the sobs when they came this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a ride. Anyway one last big thank you to Widofjordwillwork for their amazing work on these translations!!
> 
> Verbrannt: Burned  
> Kl- meine Frau wurde umgebracht, auf dem Scheiterhaufen verbrannt: Kl- my wife was killed, burned at the stake  
> Sie nahmen meine Tochter, als sie unser Zuhause angriffen. Meine Frau und ich wurden ins Gefängnis geworfen, um auf unseren 'Prozess' zu warten. Sie wurde der Ketzerei für schuldig befunden, also brachten sie sie zum Stadtkern und verbrannten lebendig vor meinen Augen. Sie sagten es wäre Teil meiner Strafe und dass ich froh darüber sein sollte, dass mir Gnade erwiesen wurde. Ich war... sie folterten mich. Behaupteten, dass es meine Art war, Reue zu zeigen, und dass ich meine Tochter wiederhaben könnte, solange ich beweisen konnte, dass es mir leid tat, eine Ketzerin geliebt zu haben. Ich brauchte ein Jahr, um zu bemerken, dass sie lügten: They took my daughter when they attacked our home. My wife and I were thrown in jail to await our ‘trial’. She was found guilty of heresy so they took her to the center of town and burned her alive in front of me. They said it was part of my penance and that I should be glad that I was being granted mercy. I was… they tortured me. Claimed it was my way of showing my repentance and that I could have my daughter back so long as I proved how sorry I was for loving a heretic. It took me a year to realize they were lying.
> 
> I will be back with more of these little one-shots or even any requests anyone has as I finish them/get material from the show to work with.


	2. Molly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lo and behold I finished the second part of this within a reasonable time after posting the first part. That might be a first for a fic I didn't already have completely written. Anyways, we move on to Molly now and oh boy was this fun to write. I don't know what it is about Taliesin's characters but both times now they've become instant favorites of mine after maybe a whole minute of screen time. So naturally the right thing to do with your favorites is hurt them psychologically, right?

Molly was a sucker for pretty things, he and everyone else knew that. One look at his ostentatious coat and the multitude of baubles hanging off his horns made it abundantly clear. So when he was the first one to see a gorgeous necklace of silver inlaid with all sorts of gems during one of their now routine monster extermination/problem solving missions he didn’t think twice about picking it up. It only took him a few seconds to fasten it around his neck, which really was the safest place for it with Nott’s sticky fingers and fascination with shiny things. Flashing a smirk at the pouting goblin he sauntered off down the corridor, the metal of the choker cool against his skin.

After another hour of walking dotted with small skirmishes here and there the group reached a diverging hallway. Three different paths split off from the main way they had been following up to that point. A quick examination of all three showed nothing of concern.

“We should just split up and search all three. It’s not like anything we’ve come across has been a problem so it’s just quicker this way.” Much as he hated to admit it Molly found himself agreeing with Beau. 

“You sure that’s a good idea? Splittin’ up could get dangerous real quick.” 

“It would be more efficient though,” it was a shock to hear Caleb advocating for being reckless but Beau quickly jumped on the opportunity with a bright grin.

“Come on Fjord if even the bookworm agrees with me then it’ll be fine.” Fjord looked like he wanted to argue but it was clear to everyone the discussion had already been won.

“Fine but each group brings somethin’ to heal with,” he relented with an exasperated sigh, “Jester, a healer’s kit or potions. We’ll meet back here in an hour an’ if anythin’ happens you can’t handle you hightail it outta there. Understood?” He was fixing Beau and Jester with a hard glance that was easily brushed off by the two women. Molly smiled to himself as he watched his companions break off in their groups, content to just go wherever he was assigned even when it ended with him and Beau as one of the groups. He had grown oddly fond of the stubborn human and enjoyed knocking her ego down a peg or two whenever he had the chance so seeing her grumble under her breath as she came to stand by his side gave him a small flicker of satisfaction. Once the potions had been distributed to Caleb and Nott, who unsurprisingly had ended up grouped together, they all set off down their individual pathways. There were torches dotting the walls that have the shadows an eerie, flickering movement.

“Well at least whoever owns this place had the decency to make it human accessible,” a low snarl from Beau was his only response and Molly chuckled. Picking on her truly was far too fun to pass up, “You’ll have to thank them before we kill them. It’s an awful pain to keep my swords lit the whole time just so you’re not stumbling over your feet.”

“I hate you.”

“Hate you too dear,” Eventually the stone walls smoothed out from a natural looking roughness to a definitively more unnatural look. The torches still hung onto the stonework every now and then but the flames became smaller the farther down the hallway they walked. A strange chill entered the air around them and Molly cautiously drew his swords at the same time Beau pulled out her staff. They shared a look before slowing their pace, scanning the walls and floor for anything that didn’t belong, “Something’s not right.”

“Gee thanks, I hadn’t noticed.” Molly opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a piercing scream from farther down the hallway. He didn’t even have to look at Beau to know what she was going to do as they both took off running down the tunnel. They quickly reached a door and without any hesitation Beau kicked it in, giving them their first good look of the room. 

He was momentarily caught off guard by just how ornate the chamber was. Beautiful tapestries decorated the walls, lit by braziers glowing with unnaturally colorful flames. The wall across from them was mostly dominated by a large mirror, in front of which sat a throne carved of what looked like obsidian. The source of the scream was nowhere to be seen. Beau locked eyes with him before taking a step back, letting Molly enter first in case the light sources went out without warning upon entering.

Carefully he took a handful of steps into the room before stopping and looking around. He still couldn’t make out any source for the scream. After taking a few more steps into the room he turned back towards Beau, just in time for an eruption of flame to send him sprawling to the floor a few feet away. His ears were ringing as he tried to shake off the daze from the blast. The sounds of battle filtered back into his mind as he staggered back to his feet and refocused on where the fireball had come from. Beau had apparently rushed into the room and was currently engaged in combat with a robed figure that seemed to be faring surprisingly well against the monk. With a scowl Molly dragged his scimitars along the insides of each of his arms before rushing in to the fray. The figure, a magic user of some kind from the faint glow coming off their robes that was apparently the cause of their surprising success against Beau, managed to just barely avoid both of Molly’s swords as he finally moved into range.

“You good?”

“Concerned for my well being now are we?” Molly’s smirk towards her was quickly replaced with a grimace as the mage vanished from in front of them in a cloud of silvery mist. The two of them each spun in a different direction in an attempt to search for their enemy before the room sputtered into darkness, Molly’s blades giving only enough light to make out the barest details. With a quick blink Molly’s eyes had adapted to the darkness and the room appeared before him once again but judging by Beau’s cursing she still couldn’t see a thing, “Stay close to me. I’ll tell you where to hit and when.” Laughter echoed throughout the room as Molly continued to scan for the magic user.

“Oh now I don’t think that’ll be happening.” He had just managed to lay eyes on the mage, only about thirty feet away from them and half hidden behind one of the braziers, when an odd constricting feeling washed through Molly’s throat and up to his ears. It was a strange sensation but not painful in anyway, causing Molly to grin at the mage he had just locked eyes with. He opened his mouth to send a taunt their way but no sound came. With a twist of panic in his stomach Molly tried to speak again and found that it was impossible. Beau’s hand gripped his arm and spun him towards her and to his horror he could see Beau’s lips moving as she spoke but nothing was registering in his ears. Molly could feel his breath starting to come faster and faster as the realization that he had been robbed of any sound at all fully sunk in but he gripped the hilts of his scimitars tighter, shoving down the rapidly expanding terror and panic that was spreading throughout him. There was a battle to be fought, this was not the time or place to completely lose control of himself. 

He turned back to the mage, narrowing his eyes and raising a blade to indicate the direction they were hiding in to Beau. Out of the corner of his eye Molly saw her step up to his side and  he traced a three followed by a zero onto her arm. She nodded and started carefully moving forward to close the distance, followed by Molly. His teeth were digging into the the inside of his mouth to keep himself anchored in the moment as the thought of ‘not now, not here’ repeated endlessly through his head. A bolt of flame had him and Beau jumping out of the way before Beau took off into a run towards the spell’s origin point. She got in a solid hit with her staff that sent the mage reeling and stumbling right towards where Molly was waiting for them. Two savage cuts to the chest nearly knocked the mage off their feet before they disappeared into the same silvery mist as before. The air around the two of them suddenly turned freezing cold and Molly had to dive for Beau’s arm to pull her away from the shards of ice that rained down on the two of them. He managed to save them from the worst of the attack but he could feel the all over ache beginning to form from the icicles he hadn’t managed to dodge. 

Finding the mage again proved to be an easier task than it had been before, likely due to their injuries hampering their ability to fully think clearly, and once again Molly directed Beau towards them with a gesture and a number written on her arm. They were easily able to close the distance to their target and another swing of Beau’s staff cracked into the mage’s head, causing them to crumple to the ground. After a few moments of stillness the two of them lowered their weapons and Molly made his way over to the nearest brazier to light it. The braziers were clearly magical in nature because as soon as one was lit the others jumped back to life as well, bathing the room in light once again. He and Beau blinked rapidly at the sudden flash of light and as their vision adjusted Molly realized his hands were shaking. 

The post battle adrenaline, which would normally be fading by then, only served to intensify the racing of his heart and the negative emotions he had somehow managed to keep contained during the battle. He could feel the ice building in his veins as he opened his mouth to try and speak again, only for more silence to meet his ears. A touch to his shoulder sent Molly whirling around and striking out with his blades. Thankfully Beau had quick reflexes and managed to block them an inch from her with her staff. She was looking at Molly in a mixture of concern and annoyance as her mouth formed words he couldn’t hear. His swords fell to the ground in silence as a rush of cold, panic and terror flooded his system. Flashes of the last time he had been robbed of his voice forced their way into his mind; thoughts of the carnival and the fear that he would never be able to speak again, that he would be nothing but a burden to these people who had somehow found it in their hearts to take in such a broken and confused tiefling. And as they always did, the rush of memories only served to make the blank spaces of his mind echo hollowly.

Everything from before waking up in a tent, surrounded by the idle chatter of people he would come to know as family, was a void of darkness and pain. Something warm ran down onto his chest and he couldn’t be sure if it was blood or tears as he frantically searched for any sign of what had taken sound from him. A pair of hands grabbed his own and jerked them away from his neck and Molly’s eyes snapped up to meet Beau’s. She held his hands away from himself, showing him that he had been right when he thought of blood as a possibility as it was coating his fingers, and calmly shook her head at him. She lowered his hands and flipped them so his palms were facing up before gently taking both his wrists in one hand. With her free hand she slowly began tracing letters onto his palms.

“ **Calm down. We can fix this,** ” Something in Molly’s chest seemed to break at this and he wasn’t sure if the sound that tried to escape him this time was a hysterical laugh or a sob, “ **Anything odd during the fight?”** Molly tried to tug one of his wrists out of her hold, flashing a half hearted smile to put her nerves at ease. After a moment’s hesitation she released one of his hands and he placed a hand on his neck, squeezing quickly to try and convey the force that had seized his vocal cords earlier before pointing to his ears and miming the same action. Beau nodded sternly before going back to her writing, “ **When?** ” Thinking was proving to be hard through the haze of exhaustion that was beginning to settle into him as his panic subsided but he was able to point to the mage before miming someone talking. Beau released Molly’s other wrist and began frantically searching the body of their enemy. While she was busy Molly rubbed at his throat again, feeling the stickiness of blood mixing with what was definitely drying tears. If he was in the state of mind to care he would be berating himself for showing this kind of weakness in front of the one member of their group that couldn’t stand him.  

His fingers brushed over the choker around his neck, now giving off a faint warmth, at the same time Beau pulled something out of the mage’s belt. It was a small stone with several glowing arcane runes etched into it. She studied it for a moment before shrugging and smashing the stone into the ground. It cracked and the runes dimmed slightly, causing Beau to grin triumphantly and with one more collision with the ground the stone shattered. The air around Molly seemed to lighten as the fragments of the stone scattered with a faint scraping sound. Beau jumped to her feet again and turned back towards him.

“Well?” His knees buckled with relief and before he had a chance to catch himself they painfully hit the stone floor. Despite the sharp pain Molly found himself laughing as he realized that whatever spell he had been under was broken, “Oh shit, ok. Uh is laughing good or does it mean you’re going insane?”

“.....Thank you,” his voice sounded rough and broken but it was the best thing Molly had heard in ages. The sound of Beau’s footsteps made its way over towards him and he looked up to see her offering him a hand.

“Don’t. You’d do the same.” He smiled tiredly up at her and took her hand, allowing her to pull him to his feet. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Molly picked up his scimitars and sheathed them once again, “Now we should be getting back to everyone else. We’re probably nearing our one hour time limit.”

“Good idea and all but you should probably clean up first. You’re uh….” she gestured towards his neck and face and Molly realized he probably looked like a complete mess covered with blood and tears. Beau pulled out her recently reclaimed healer’s kit and handed him some bandages and a bottle of liquid good for cleaning out wounds, along with her waterskin. He nodded his thanks and set to work cleaning himself up when he noticed something odd. The choker he had picked up was cold once again. Confused, he pulled it off and inspected the silver for anything that would cause the strange changes in temperature. His stomach dropped when he saw the arcane runes along the inside of the band that were identical to the ones that had been on the stone. With an angry snarl he threw the choker as far away from him as he could managed and ignored Beau’s confusion and concern as he hastily finished cleaning himself up, cursing his own stupidity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so, that was fun.... Beau and Molly are one of my BrOTP's though so I just had to write about them. As far as what caused Molly's temporary muteness and deafness it's actually a homebrew magic item that I found on DnDBeyond. It's called the Choker of Silence and was created by a user named RoboSky so full credit goes to them for creating such a brilliant magical item. And now that I'm done with my credits I should probably tell you guys once again that I am accepting requests for anything relating to this fic or even other fics. I've been in a super creative mood recently and just really want to write so feel free to send whatever my way either here or on tumblr at the-iron-yokai (if you see a Molly profile picture you're in the right place). I have a vauge idea what I want the next one shot for this one to be about so stay tuned for that.


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